


Pick Your Poison

by pinkwar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: After the battle cannon divergence, All three are Au some more so than others, British swearing, F/M, Fem!Harry, Female Harry Potter, Gen, I can only write one at a time and I can't decide which to pick so I need some help, Lily dies James lives au, M/M, Marauders' Era au, Pick your poison and vote for you fave, Severus Snape did not die, always a girl harry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-03 06:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkwar/pseuds/pinkwar
Summary: Inside are three different Au snippets.They're all Fem!Harry and all Snarry endgame.But that game is played out in three very different ways, so pick your poison and vote for your fave.Cause frankly I think my hands might drop off if I attempt to write all three of these at once so help a girl decide which one to write first. Pretty pleaseVoting is now closed, thanks to everyone who's voted the results are now up





	1. STORY A) Lily Dies

**Author's Note:**

> Story A  
> Out of sight. 
> 
> This is an au where Lily was killed by Voldemort while James, Sirius and Remus where away from Godric's Hollow helping Dumbledore destroy the Horcruxes. 
> 
> Harmony lived but when she become older and started to resemble Lily to much for James to handle he ships her off to Beauxbatons. 
> 
> It's a case of out of sight out of mind. 
> 
> In 1997 the Tri-wizard tournament is held at Hogwarts giving 17 year old Harmony Potter the chance to confront the man who abandoned her and the chance to see the castle that she dreamed of as a child. 
> 
> And if she happens to become intrigued by the dark brooding professor who also happens to hate James Potter as much as she does, there's no harm in that. Right?
> 
> see end of chapter 3 for how to cast your vote

**STORY A**

**(Out Of Sight)**

 

 Prologue

James Potter loved Lily Evans.

It was simple, unequivocal and as damning a statement as Harmony Potter had ever heard in her seventeen years of life.

It was simple because everyone knew, that since the day that they’d first met, James Potter was besotted with Lily Evans.

It was unequivocal because saying James Potter wouldn’t love Lily Evans for the rest of his natural life and probably even beyond that of the stars. Would be like trying to say that the grass wasn’t green or that the sky wasn’t blue.

It was damning because the grief he held, for the dead wife he still loved so desperately, would eclipse everything else in James Potters life … even the love he should've had for the daughter Lily had bore him.

 

Chapter One. 

Back when James Potter had still been known as papa and Harmony had yet to realise his flaws as a human being. They would sit together in the shade of the large oak in their back garden and he would regale the young girl with stories of her mother. Stories that told of how beautiful, brave, brilliant and kind she’d been.

James also told her fantastical tales of princes and princesses as all decent parents do. But even these didn’t escape the grip of her sainted mother.

Her mother was portrayed as the princess fair, while her papa portrayed himself as the handsome prince who’d won her heart.

When Harmony was a little older, older than four but younger than seven, the once happy, carefree tales became darker.

Her papa began to tell her tales of a rat who’d betrayed his brothers in all but blood, and of how he’d led an evil man to the princesses fortress while her prince and his two knights were away on a quest most important.

The rat had led the evil man to the princess, her papa would tell her, because the evil man had heard of a prophecy that foretold of his death at the hands of a babe born as the seventh month dies; so the evil man decided that the babe must die.

The rat, traitor that he was, readily agreed to help his master and betrayed the secret place where the fortress stood.

And so with the prince and the knights away, the evil man and his rat traitor went to the fortress on all hallows eve intending to murder the princesses babe in cold blood.

In the end the evil man was vanquished, but not by the babe. He was vanquished by a murdered mothers wish to keep her beautiful child safe from harm. 

The prince and his knights returned to their fortress expecting to find the princess and the babe waiting for their return. But what they found was their fortress destroyed, their Princess dead and a squalling babe trapped in the remains of her broken crib.

The rat was soon hunted down by the prince and his knights.

A snivelling mess of a man who had no desire to face what he’d done and who’d tried to murder a village just to escape. But the prince was to fast for the rat and he’d been captured before he’d had chance to utter a single curse. In the end he was sent to a distant rock, surrounded by sea and patrolled by shadows, and the rat went slowly mad.

With the rat dealt with, the prince and his knights returned to their broken fortress and their squalling babe. Intent on rebuilding their kingdom and living as happily as they could without their princess fair.

Unfortunately for Harmony Potter however, fairytales, no matter how anchored in truth, are just that, tales; real life rarely has a truly happy ending.

As happy as her early childhood had been, the latter half held nothing but loneliness and a profound sense of grief.

Harmony could still remember a time when she’d lived for James Potter’s attention and back then he’d still been more than happy to provide her with it.

But now, as she gazed up into the leaves of an alder tree outside her school in France, she couldn’t honestly remember how long ago James had last sat with her and regaled her with stories of the prince and the princess.

It was well before she'd began to resemble her sainted mother of that she was quite certain. And it was certainly long before that hateful summer when James Potter had felt the need to exile his daughter to another country, just to keep his sanity; while she couldn't remember how long ago, she could still remember the little details of the last time he'd told her that story with almost perfect clarity.

She could remember it was late summer because the air had been hot and dry, and the sun had been playing hide and seek with the old oaks leaves. Casting dappled shadows on James’ face as he’d absently played with her scruffy strawberry blond hair.

The light breeze that had danced around the reclining pair had been perfumed by the smells of dry grass, baked earth and the numerous flowers that had run along the edge of the garden.

The one other thing that had stuck with her, from that last telling of her parents story, was that James’ eyes had seemed to be looking somewhere beyond the garden and the tree. It was like he wasn’t even aware he was talking to his daughter at all.

Perhaps if she’d paid more attention back then, James' later abandonment of her wouldn’t have come as such a heart breaking shock.

Harmony huffed out a breath, looking down at the daisy she’d absently been playing with. She'd turned the poor thing into a bedraggled mess. 

She threw the flower to the ground, disgusted with herself for letting James Potter hijack her thoughts.

She was seventeen now; dwelling on the fact that James Potter would rather live his life with memories of a dead woman, than with his living breathing daughter would do her no good.

It wasn’t her fault that James depression had gotten worse the older she'd got or that she’d begun to strongly resemble the mother that she’d never known.

When she been shipped off to Beauxbatons academy at the age of eleven she been distraught. She’d expected to go to Hogwarts, just like every other Potter before her had.

But by then James' long held grief meant he’d been absent from the family home for nearly a year.

When her hair turned from it’s soft strawberry blond and into a darker shade of ginger like her mothers, not long after her tenth birthday, James Potter had fled the house and sequestered himself away in the glorious castle he'd mentioned so many times in his stories.

He hadn’t told her he was leaving. She'd just woke up one morning to find that the house was empty.

There hadn’t even been a note.

He’d left all of her care in the hands of a single house elf, her mostly absent godfather, a werewolf who never had as much time for her as he’d like to and a few dozen portraits that tutted at her more than they ever spoke to her.

It’d been lonely, but she’d gotten by with the hope that her papa would come back home one day, instead of spending all his time at Hogwarts; when that hope inevitably waned, she turned it to hoping she could see him once she was able to attend Hogwarts.

Then that horrid day, her eleventh birthday, happened. James selfishness had been intent on ripping the rug from under her feet once more, and it'd managed it with nothing more than a piece of parchment.

Harmony frowned absently, picking up a dry blade of grass before  beginning to mangle it the same as she had the poor flower, she could remember that morning so well.

She’d all but run down to breakfast. She’d expected to see a thick cream envelope and a crotchety school owl waiting for her, but she’d been sorely disappointed.

Instead of the owl and the cream envelope, there’d been a solitary dove grey letter in the middle of the kitchen table.

She could still remember the coldness that had swept through her as she’d walked towards that unassuming little letter. She’d picked it up with trembling hands, unpicked sky-blue seal on the back, and began to read.

_To_

_Miss Harmony Jacqueline Hosta Potter._

_After receiving enquires from your father we have the great pleasure of informing you that you have been accepted to Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons (Beauxbatons academy of magic). We expect to see you for the start of term on September 2 nd 1991._

_Please find enclosed a list of required books and equipment._

_It is also recommended that international students take a portkey the day before the term is due to start to prevent tardiness._

_Yours sincerely_

_Madame Olympe Maxime_

_Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy_

She hadn’t noticed the letter falling to the ground, her breathing growing rapid, or that the cheery kitchen seemed to fade out of existence as she'd struggled for breath. 

Right there on that sunny morning at the end of July she’d had her very first anxiety attack; it wouldn’t be that last one she’d have due to James Potter’s selfishness either. Not by a long shot.

When her breathing had eventually eased and the sunny kitchen had come back into focus she found that she was on the floor with her back pressed tight in to the tables legs, as she held onto the base of her legs in a white knuckled grip.

She’d had the bruises around her ankles for nearly a week after that godforsaken letter had arrived.

She’d gingerly picked the letter back up, tracing over the damning words with a trembling finger.

_After receiving enquires from your father._

The letter had crumpled in her hand, as she closed her eyes against the bitter words and silently wept into her bent legs.

Eventually she’d managed to force herself off the floor, throwing the letter on the table and marching out back to the dusty broom shed.

Flying cleared her head, and without the constant presence of adults in the house during that lonely year she’d not had anyone to tell her she couldn’t go as high or as fast as she wanted. 

With the summer breeze swirling around her and her empty stomach swooping as she’d done another dive, she’d come to the conclusion that her papa was no longer that man who told her stories or tucked her into bed and he never would be again.

When she’d eventually forced herself to look at the supply lists for the French school nearly a week later, having finally realised that she wasn't going to have a choice in where she was sent, she’d asked herself what type of parent would do this to their child.

Who would send a child, with no usable knowledge of magic or even a basic grasp of French, to a foreign school far away from anyone who was going to have her back.

In the end the answer had been simple, a parent wouldn’t. But James Potter would.

She never called him papa again after that, not even in the privacy of her own head, she simply hadn’t thought he deserved the title anymore

Harmony was pulled from her less than pleasant thoughts about her late childhood by the loud thump of half a dozen books hitting the dry ground next to her.

Releasing the mangled blade of grass, she Shielded her eyes against the late summer sun and smiled at the bushy haired witch that was about to join her under the shade of the alder tree.

“Hi Hermione, been raiding the library again?”

Her friend gave her an arch look.

“Of course I have. You’ve got this insane idea into your head to enter that blasted tournament, forgive me for wanting to be prepared just in case you do get picked by whoever this impartial judge is.”

Harmony smiled. “Don’t worry so much Mione’, whoever they are they’re unlikely to pick Beauxbatons rebel child.”

Hermione huffed out a breath before picking up a book that was so old it looked like it’s bindings were about to fall off.

“Whatever, if you truly believe that, then why put your name forwards in the first place?”

Harmony pursed her lips. “I put my name forwards because this might be my only chance of ever seeing Hogwarts. Merlin knows James is never willingly going to let me near the place.”

Hermione settled the open book in her lap and looked over at her friend, worry etched around her eyes.

“Please tell me your not going to risk entering a magically binding contract just to get one over on your father”. 

Harmony scowled. “That man is not my father, he’s the man who provided my genetic material, nothing else”.

Hermione scowled back.

“Ok, fine. _P_ _lease_ tell me that you’re not risking being entered into a magical tournament, that could get you killed for Merlin's sake! Just so that you can get one over on _James Potter_ ”.

Harmony looked away from her friend and began playing with a lock of her violently coloured hair.

“Fine I won’t”

“Harmony!”.

Harmony stopped fiddling with her hair and looked at her distraught friend. Even if she hadn’t heard the undertones of it in her voice, she certainly wouldn’t of missed the anxiety in her friends brown eyes. 

With a sigh Harmony ran a hand through her long scruffy hair.

“Look I know it seems a stupid idea, even in my own head I'm having some serious misgivings … but you just wouldn’t get this need Mione’. You didn’t know about Hogwarts until you were more or less being pushed onto the train. But I grew up with stories of that castle; James robbed me of what should've  been the best time of my life and instead I was left struggling in a school where I didn’t know the language and was completely friendless … at least until you turned up anyway”.

Hermione reached out a hand a rubbed at her friends shoulder comfortingly.

“I do get that Harmony, but the castle isn’t anything special.. not really. It’s certainly awe-inspiring when you first get there. But very quickly I learned it’s a castle full of bullies and bigots and teachers who don’t seem to be able to see past the end of their own noses. Why do you think I begged to be transferred? It wasn’t just because my parents moved their practice to France, it was because I didn’t want to remain in a school that saw me as nothing because I was too much of a know it all… or … not pure enough for their standards”

Harmony heard her friends voice catch and she leaned forwards to give her a hug.

“I get that Mione’, I really do and if I ever come face to face with the wankers who called you those names they’ll feel the end of my wand. But I want to go there. I think I need to prove to myself that my life wouldn’t have been better if I'd been able to go to the magical castle that used to haunt my dreams and I think I still need to prove to myself that, that selfish man didn't fuck me up beyond repair."

Hermione's voice was slightly muffled when she answered because her head was still buried in her friends shoulder, but Harmony heard her well enough anyway.

“I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this am I?”

“Nope”. Hermione pulled back and shook her head.

“Ok, fine. I won’t ask again. But I swear to merlin Harmony Potter, if you get yourself killed during this hair brained plan, I will personally bring you back from the dead and kill you myself”.

Harmony smiled. “Really feeling the love here Mione’”.

Hermione sniffed before picking her book up off her lap and burying her head in it. “Well you should. Especially since I asked Madame Maxime to put my name down on the list of students who want to go”.

Harmony's smile dropped. “You can’t be serious! If you get picked you could get killed!”.

Hermione didn’t look up from her yellowing book, but Harmony heard the steel in her voice all the same.

“I’m taking the same risks you are, so you’ve no right to object. Besides if you thought for one second that I was going to let you go all the way to England without me, then you’re seriously delusional”.

She didn’t really know what to say to that, so instead of saying anything she tackled her friend into a bone crushing hug that sent Hermione’s book flying, and caused Harmony's glasses to squish into her face.

“I’m really glad you transferred from Hogwarts you know”.

Harmony heard something that sounded suspiciously like a sniff from her friend, “Me to.” 

Clearing her throat Hermione pulled back form Harmony and picked up her book.

Harmony had the good grace not to draw attention to the fact that her friend discreetly wiped at her eyes as she picked her book back up.

As Hermione began to read once more, Harmony let the rustle of the alders leaves and the sound of old parchment being turned lull her into a state of semi relaxation against the trunk of the tree at her back. She could just feel herself being pulled into a light doze when a sudden exclamation from Hermione made her bolt upright and look over at her friend.

“What!”. 

“Nothing, I just remembered that Madame Maxime gave me a note for you when I went to her office to sign up for the tournament.. er, hang on I think I put it in one of the books so I didn’t loose it”.

A small smile tugged at Harmony’s lips as she watched her friend start leafing through her various books and becoming more frantic when she couldn’t find it.

“Oh, were has that blasted thing gone!.. I could’ve sworn I put it in this ... oh ... actually didn't I put it in ...”.

Hermione abandoned her books and dug around in her bag for a few seconds; She came back with a triumphant smile and a small folded square of dove grey paper with a light blue seal.

“This is it. I remember now I was going to put it inside the books but I worried that the fresh wax might damage them so I put it in my bag instead”.

Hermione sat there proudly for a few seconds holding the found parchment; She seemed to have quite forgotten that Harmony actually needed to be given it in order to read it.

“So … Are you going to let me read the note or do you want us to try our hand at divination again?”.

Hermione flushed pink and handed the note over. “Don’t even, taking that blasted class for one term was bad enough”.

Harmony held back a snigger. It was well known amongst Beauxbatons students that Hermione Granger was a swot, but it was also well known that Hermione never gave up on something she felt was worthwhile. So her walking out of divinations had caused quite the stir. Because If Hermione Granger, future intellectual extraordinaire, refused to continue learning something then you knew it was a waste of time. 

The classes attendance had dropped significantly after Hermione's walk out.

Poor Professor Prichard had been left with a very small flock of sheep to continue teaching the workings of the inner eye to.

Hermione made herself busy rearranging her books into two neat piles, while Harmony opened her note.

Honestly she wasn’t expecting much, this was likely another summons for one infarction or another, Maxime had never really seemed to truly like her and she was forever berating her for one thing or another. The headmistress had looked like she’d sucked a particularly sour lemon when she’d asked Maxime to put her on the tournament list. She hadn't been able to refuse of course, but she'd looked like she'd wanted to.

Reading through the note Harmony let out a short bark of laughter.

“What?” asked Hermione.

“Oh nothing, Maxime was just trying to remind me that it would be quite ‘ _improper_ ’, if I was to turn up at Hogwarts with, _‘unnatural hair choices_ ’ and ' _clothing only fit for a gang_ ',  and that she wouldn't hesitate in leaving me here to, ' _think about my inappropriate life choices'_. So in other words I have to turn up looking suitably Fleur-ish, if I don't want to be left behind."

Hermione looked at her friends abundance of brightly coloured hair critically.

“Do you want me to help you dye it? I know we have a free weekend before we leave, we could pick up a hair dye on the way to mum and dads”.

Harmony shook her head sending her scruffy purple and black curls bouncing around her face.

“Nah, Don't worry about it.  I’ll put a colour charm on it just before we're due to leave. It’ll last long enough that it’ll be to late to send me back by the time it wears off”.

Harmony felt a rather evil grin take over her face as a thought came to her, James was going to hate seeing her whatever she did so she might as well rub some salt in the wound while she was at it.

“Besides”. Said Harmony as she lent back into the tree and crossed her legs at the ankles, her patent combat boots catching the summer sun as she did so. “I think the host school would appreciate me showing them some solidarity, don’t you think?”. 

Hermione looked at her friend warily. “I know that look, what are you up to Harm?”. 

“Don’t worry about it Mione’, I think James Potter will love it”.

With that she closed her eyes and let the sounds of late summer carry her away. She heard Hermione huff once more before resuming her book.

As she began to drift she had the idle thought that she would miss Beauxbatons.

Ironic really considering that she’d never wanted to be in this school in the first place. But it’d become her home, she hadn’t been back to England for more than a few weeks every summer since she’d started here and she’d not seen James at all since the summer just before her second year.

She’d been with Sirius and Remus in Diagon alley enjoying an ice cream, when James had come out of Flourish and Blotts.

They'd all frozen like rabbits caught in a strong Lumos, but he’d recovered quicker than they had and after a terse nod at her godfather and his husband. James had briskly walked in the opposite direction of the trio and out of sight.

He hadn’t looked at her once, it was like she no longer existed for James Potter.

 _Well._ Thought Harmony as a slow smile spread over her lips. _The times come for James Potter to realise you can’t abandon a child without consequences._

_I can’t wait to see his face when he realises that I’ve invaded his precious haven._


	2. Story B) Maruaders Era Au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This au is set in the 70's.
> 
> Harmony potter is the illegitimate daughter of Fleamont potter making her James half sister. 
> 
> But neither Fleamont nor James knows she exists and Harmony certainly has no idea that magic does. Not until one fateful visit on her eleventh birthday.
> 
> Ambitious to make a life beyond the one she's been served Harmony grabs at the unexpected with both hands. Unfortunately for her the snakes won't react kindly to someone they think is a mudblood joining their ranks.
> 
> But the snakes would do well to remember it's never wise to judge a book by its cover, or an orphan by an unknown family tree.

 

 

STORY B

(A Serpents Tale)

  

Prologue.

 

My name is Harmony Callisto Melania Ebony Potter

 

I am a Potter for the father who doesn’t know.

 

I am Ebony for the family my conception would’ve disgraced.

 

I am Melania for the mother mine never knew.

 

I am Callisto for tradition and the heritage that flows in my veins.

 

I am Harmony for no one but myself.

 

And this is the story of how magically thrilling my life would become after one fateful day in 1972

 

chapter 1

 

July 31st 1972

 

_Well you’re dirty and sweet_

_clad in black_

_don’t look back_

_and I love you_

_You’re dirty and sweet, oh yeah.._

 

Harmony Potter stared out of her open window. The sound of the radio added a nice background noise to the horrendous weather outside. It’d been the same for days. Dull, humid and occasionally absolutely pissing it down. Like right now.

As she followed a particularly fat rain drop with her eyes, she heard the first strains of distant thunder. Harmony heaved a sigh, she knew what was coming even before it started.

_Well you’re …. and you’re weak_

_You’ve got ... teeth_

_Of the hydra upon....._

 

Right on cue the storm started sending her radio through sporadic waves of static. It was incredibly annoying.

_You’re dirty and sweet_

_And ….. my girl_

_Get it on_

_Bang ... gong_

_Get it…._

Harmony turned slightly to turn the radio off, before settling in her original position and staring listlessly at the weather once more.

Without the soothing cadence of the music in the background all she had to occupy her attention was the deafening sound of the rain against her window and the distant rumble of thunder. It wasn’t a bad thing to listen to she supposed.

Certainly better than listening to a song you were only half hearing.

With another sigh of discontent Harmony turned over on her back and stared at the water stained ceiling.

She supposed it could be worse. She could be outside right now instead of shut away in her stuffy room. She knew which of the options she preferred, even though they both left a lot to be desired.

Madam Aster really didn’t give a hoot if they got soaked doing the chores. It built character apparently. But with it being a Saturday she wasn’t here at the moment and Aster always locked them in if she had to be away from the institution for more than half an hour.

So for today at least, Harmony would be spared the horror of trudging around in a soaked uniform as she tried to maintain Asters garden to the high standards the cow demanded.

At least Aster had permitted her to empty her chamber pot before she’d been locked in for the day. Otherwise she’d not only be bored stiff, she’d be stuck in here with a horrendous smell as well.

Huffing she rolled onto her other side, trying in vain to find a cool spot on her threadbare pillow.

She could feel the sweat beading over her face.

She swiped her tongue over her upper lip; Tasting the salt that had collected and contemplated removing her thick Woollen smock dress to help her cool down. But the thought was a fleeting thing and it left as quickly as it'd come.

Putting up with the heat was a lot less painful than the punishment she’d receive if Aster came back and caught her out of uniform during daylight hours.

She’d removed her top layers during the day only once before.

But once had been enough to teach her not to do it again, no matter how hot she was.

It was the first summer that she’d been in residence here. Aster had come back from one of her outings and found her in nothing but her shirt and knickers and despite the fact that she’d been locked in the tiny room on her own, Aster had gone nuts.

She’d called her wicked and a harlot in the making. She’d taken a switch to her backside as punishment; Harmony hadn’t been able to sit for a week.

It wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat.

She’d have changed into something lighter weight if she had it, but unlike most of other permanent _boarders_ the only clothes she had to her name were a couple of ratty oversized uniforms and two over-starched nightshirts that were starting to go very thin in certain places from the frequent wash and wear.

She absolutely loathed her uniform and the nightshirts; She’d made a vow to herself, that the first thing she would do when she could legally leave this place was burn the damn things.

Even if she had to walk out of the institution naked, they'd end up as ash before she left. she refused to even contemplate taking the disgusting garments anywhere beyond the gates that kept them all locked away like prisoners.

She didn’t think anyone would blame her for burning them. Not if they knew that she’d been literally wearing the exact same uniforms 365 days a year since she been dumped here at the tender age of eight.

She’d been in the Vale orphanage before that.

She really missed the Vale, she’d spent four very happy years there before she’d had to come to this hell.

The years before the Vale had been spent with her mother.

She couldn’t remember the time she'd spent with her mother quite as well as all the time she’d spent in the institutions. But she knew she’d been very well loved by her in the short time they’d had together, and really that was all that mattered as far as Harmony was concerned.

After all she knew that her mother had loved her, and that unlike the parents of some of the children she’d met, her mother wouldn’t have abandoned her to the world if she’d been given a choice.

Unfortunately for Harmony, the choice had been taken out of her mothers hands by a madman with a strange stick and a smile that still haunted her dreams.

She couldn’t remember much of the attack other than her mothers desperate pleading, before she dropped to the floor in a flash of green. Harmony can vaguely remember the man rounding on her as she screamed for her mother, then there was a green light and everything had gone black.

When she'd woken up, her mother still wasn’t moving and Harmony had blood dribbling down her face; The man and his weird green light were gone.

She can remember screaming herself hoarse as she tried to get her mother to respond, and years later when she'd asked one of the Vales staff who'd found them, she’d been told that it was her mothers neighbor who’d done so

The attack had happened in their back garden and when the housewife next door had come outside to put her washing up she’d heard Harmony’s screams. She’d ignored them to begin with, putting it down to the single mothers child being a brat she’d said. But apparently she’d gotten annoyed enough by the screams that she’s decided to give her mother a tongue lashing.

According to what Harmony had been told, the woman had looked over the fence ready to reprimand her mother for her abysmal parenting and had found the young woman lying motionless on the grass; Her small child screaming bloody murder at her side.

Harmony had vague recollections of people coming, she thinks they must've been policemen. They were dressed completely in black.

One of them had cleaned her head up and placed a bandage over the small gash on her forehead. If they were policemen they hadn't stayed long. No sooner had the person stopped her head from hurting, a couple of men in red had turned up and the people in black had left.

She’d still been crying, but the red men hadn't tried to console her or even speak to her. They’d simply ignored her.

They’d covered her mothers body in something and taken her away.

Then they’d dumped her on the steps of the local orphanage with a small note that they'd pushed into her hand.

As they'd rung the bell to get the staffs attention, one of the red men had said something about mudblood sluts getting what they deserved

She hadn’t known quite what those words had meant at the time (she still wasn't a sure what a mudblood was), but his friend had laughed at the comment as they’d walked away and left her stood on steps by herself.

She’d still been crying and they hadn’t cared. They’d just walked along the Vales driveway before vanishing without a trace. It was like they’d never been there.

Looking back she knows her mothers death had sent her into shock by that stage. She certainly hadn't spoken for quite some time after the event, so perhaps the red mens abrupt disappearance had just been a figment of that.

A thin woman had come out of the orphanage just after they’d disappeared. She’d gently led Harmony into the building and that had been the start of her life as an orphan.

Thankfully, and contrary to the horror stories that sometimes circulated about such places, the one she’d been left at had turned out to be a rather nice place to live.

She knew there were places that weren’t so nice, some of the older children had told her that, but she’d felt at home there.

She’d missed her mother terribly of course, but the staff had been friendly and caring. The place had been clean, if not a little bare and she’d eventually become friendly-ish with most of the other children.

Though she was never going to be a social butterfly.

Most of the staff became like pseudo Aunts and Uncles and she’d have been very happy to stay there given the chance.

She wasn’t like some of the others, she hadn’t wished for a new family, because the only family she wanted was her mum. Some of the others were very vocal with their thoughts about why they should’ve already been adopted, but Harmony wasn’t worried about adoptions, she was quite content to remain as she was until she was old enough to leave.

Unfortunately she would soon come to learn that if fate thought you were happy you weren’t going to remain that way for long.

One cold November night, the year she’d turned eight, fate had finally seen fit to pounce and her world had come tumbling down around her for the second time in her short life.

It was a simple equation really. New orphan, plus a lighter in the kitchen at midnight equalled the end of Harmony’s contented life.

She’d scrambled out of her bed as the staff had pounded on doors trying to get the children out before the place burned to the ground. No sooner had most of the children gotten out of the smoking building than the place went up like a stack of kindling.

The youngest children who were housed in the attic space of the orphanage hadn't stood a chance. They'd died in the flames. One of the newer members of staff had died with them. She'd been trying to get them all to safety.

The boy who'd lit the fire was also amongst the dead, his body had been found on the stairs leading up from the basement kitchen. There’d been a melted lighter clutched in the charred remains of his hand.

Harmony hadn't known any of this right away of course, they'd only been told all this just before they'd all been separated.

No, in the immediate wake of the fire Harmony hadn't spared a single thought about anybody dying.

Huddled with the other children and shaking in the cold November air. She'd been oblivious to the crying and the screaming and the sobbing. She'd been in too much shock to really take it in the anguish of those around her.

So she'd stood there silent amongst the grief, watching the scene play out with an odd sense of detachment. Eventually the fire engines had arrived to put out the blaze.

Various groups of people had started to usher the now homeless orphans away from the burning building and towards a church hall that sat a little way up the street.

As she been guided up the road without even a pair of slippers to protect her feet against the harsh bite of the pavement, she'd suddenly realised that all she now had to her name was a pair of thin red striped pyjamas and her mothers silver chain.

The only reason she had that much was because she’d refused to remove the chain since the day her mother had secured it around her neck. The same day that her mother had been murdered.

After a sleepless night in a draughty church hall and a bizarre breakfast of digestive biscuits and condensed milk, things had started to move quicker than she'd been able to keep track of.

It was barely eight hours after the fire when the announcement was made that the live-in staff were to be moved to a facility in the next town. Most of the children, many of them people she was friendly with, had gone with them.

Harmony wasn't amongst them though.

Apparently there'd been something of a kerfuffle, the new orphanage was adamant that they wouldn't take on children with little hope of being adopted. They hadn't got the room apparently.

This meant many of the older children, and a few of the younger ones like her who'd gone out of their way to avoid being adopted, had been left behind.

Those left had had no choice but to spend another cold night on the church halls floor.

The next morning a sombre announcement had been made to the remaining children about those that had died in the blaze, including the boy with the lighter. No one outright blamed the dead boy for the fire but everyone knew he’d been the one who’d cost them their home. While the news of those that had died was still sinking in, the authorities had seen fit to lumber the orphans with another piece of news.

They were told that places had been found for them in various fostering facilities.

This seemed like a good thing, until the orphans had realised that the facilities they were speaking of were scattered around the country. Having already lost a home the orphans would now loose what little semblance of family they had.

Not a single one of the children left in that church hall would be re-homed together.

Harmony was one of the first to be taken from the hall and sent on her way.

She been taken to the station and bundled onto a filthy train by a harried looking volunteer. The woman had given her something that was to supposed to have resembled a smile, before telling her that someone would collect her from the other end.

The compartment door had been slammed in her face before Harmony had even had a chance to ask just who it was that was supposed to be collecting her.

The compartment had been empty except for her. So she’d placed her meagre belongings (the red striped pyjamas, and a one eared bear that she’d saved in the chaos of the various children being removed from the hall) on the seat next to her and waited for the train to set off with a slow drawn out screech of metal against metal.

No one had even thought to tell her were she’d be going.

Thankfully a quick glance at her ticket had given her that information.

In plain printed letters, the ticket had told her she was going one way to Guildford.

With that knowledge, she slipped the ticket into the pocket of her disgusting brown and orange dress (that she’d been given out of the church donations bin), and gripped the edge of the smelly velour seat for dear life.

Alone after two days surrounded by other people grieving for the loss of their home and their pseudo families, Harmony had finally released the dam around her emotions. She doesn't know how long she’d cried or even what she’d cried for.

All she knows is that by the time she’d let all of her emotions out, they’d nearly been at Guildford.

The other passengers began to disembark as soon as the train came to a stop. The rain had stopped by then, but Harmony had been in no rush to get off the train. She was small for her age and wanted to try and avoid getting trampled by the various people rushing around.

Eventually the tide of people thinned and Harmony had disembarked just before the train set off on it’s return journey back up the line.

With the all the passengers more or less gone, Harmony had easily spotted a white wooden bench near the entrance of the station. She’d thought it as good a place as any to wait for her unknown collector.

She’d watched as the last of the people who’d been on the platform trickled away out of the entrance or onto another train. With everyone gone it become quickly apparent to Harmony that the person who was supposed to collect her wasn’t there.

She’d felt her stomach drop like it had been filled with lead.

She hadn’t been sat there for long when she’d begun to shiver in the damp station are, she’d pulled her holey cardigan closer to her slight frame in a vain attempt at keeping herself warm. But try as she might, a thin summer dress and a cardigan with enough holes in it to make a passable colander were only ever going to do so much to keep the chill at bay.

She’d felt like she was going to start weeping again, but she’d willed herself not to. She wasn’t a baby and she'd refused to let anyone believe otherwise.

Forty five minutes were to pass before someone would eventually came for her.

She’d thought for sure that she’d freeze to death on that station.

She’d been contemplating if the station staff would find a block of Harmony shaped ice in the morning when a shadowy figure had finally appeared near the entrance.

She’d stayed in her seat, after all there’d been no guarantee that this person was there for her, or even that they’d be friendly.

A round, severe woman, with a head tightly permed bleach blond hair had stepped out of the shadows and into one of the stations lights.

Harmony can remember hoping that this person wasn’t there for her. No matter how cold she might've been feeling.

The woman had looked around the platform, before her eyes had landed on Harmony. Seeing the skinny girl sat alone on the bench the woman had walked towards her with a look of pure loathing on square jawed face.

The station had echoed ominously with the steady click of her heels. The closer the woman had gotten the more of her features she’d been able to see.

Her nose was long and thin, her lips had been bright red and her ice blue eyes had flashed with something undefinable the closer that she’d gotten to the tiny girl.

The woman had levelled Harmony with a biting sneer once she was directly in front of her. Without saying a word to the shivering girl, the woman had grabbed the bear and the pyjamas that Harmony had been clinging to like a life line and threw them in a nearby bin that reeked of vomit.

Taken aback by the hostile display from this unknown woman, Harmony had dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands so she didn’t end up saying something she might regret. She knew her mouth had the nasty habit of running away from her if it was given the chance, and she'd had an inkling that this woman wouldn’t take kindly to that.

When the woman finally addressed Harmony, her voice was cold and callous and held none of the warmth that she’d grown accustomed to from the majority of the Vales staff.

_“You’ll not be bringing tat like that”._

The woman had said as she’d pointed one long fat finger at the rubbish bin.

 _“Into_ my _establishment._ _It’s already bad enough that I have to take someone as scraggy and urchin like as you into my clean halls”._

Pure disdain had curdled the woman's features at the thought of having to take Harmony in and without another word her pointy fingers had wrapped around Harmony’s upper arm.

The woman had dragged her out of the empty station and towards a very old car. It’d had a crank handle for gods sake.

One of the thick steel doors had been wrenched open and Harmony had been harshly shoved into one of the back seats _._

It had taken the woman several long minutes to get the crank turned engine started and when she finally managed it she’d gotten into the car with a huff of annoyance.

The silence in the car had made Harmony feel extremely unsettled.

She would’ve asked for the woman’s name as a way of breaking through the tense atmosphere, if it wasn’t for the fact the she had a feeling the woman would've ripped her head off her shoulders for so much as breathing in her direction. Let alone asking for her name.

Harmony wasn’t sure how long the car journey took. But it seemed like it took forever and not long enough all at the same time.

The old car had come to a juddering stop outside a pair of high walls that had a set of tall, blue painted, iron gates anchored in to the foreboding brick.

In the weak glow of the cars headlamps Harmony had just been able to make out the shape of numerous spikes lining the top of the structure.

She can remember thinking, that whatever this place was, it was nothing like the cheerful place she’d left. This place had looked like a prison.

The woman had gotten out of the car to unlock the gates, and they’d swung inwards witch an audible screech of rarely used hinges. To say the sound had been bad for Harmony’s already frayed nerves would be a gross understatement.

The woman had lumbered back to the car and slowed edged the ancient vehicle through the open gates. Once they’d been through the woman had pulled the car to a stop again and got out with a growl of annoyance, clearly not best pleased at having to go a relock the gates she’d only just opened.

While she waited for the woman to return, Harmony risked at glance through the windows, there wasn’t much to see in the dark, but a flash of bright blue to her left drew her attention. The weak headlights seemed to be shining on some sort of sign.

Cautiously she leant forwards over the drivers seat for a better look.

The sign was covered in Ivy and most of the writing had been to obscured for her to read it. But one part of the sign had been dutifully kept free of the plant. Likely because it was the most important part.

_ Madam Asters School of correction & Boarding Home For Wayward Youths.  _

Harmony hadn’t known if to feel insulted at the implication that she was now, apparently, a wayward youth, or if she should’ve been terrified by what those few simple words would now mean for her life.

It didn't take her long to realise that she should've been terrified.

Much later, after she’d been given a rudimentary tour of the dank building by the woman who’d finally been identified as the Aster the sign had mentioned. Harmony was shown to the dreary little cell that she still calls home three years later.

There’d been a single metal bed with a mattress so thin she'd been sure some of the lumps were the bed frame sticking through it, a small desk with a three legged stool sat next to it and a single shadeless bulb hanging from a bare wire in the middle of the ceiling.

As Harmony had looked around the room in distaste the old bag had thrown a well worn nightshirt at her head and told her she needed to be up by five to help the other boarders make breakfast and if she wasn’t there promptly she’d suffer the consequences.

With one last sneer of utter disdain the woman had swept out of the cell, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her.

That last parting shot had been enough to convince Harmony that any life she had to live here wouldn’t be a happy one.

Even worse than that had been the realisation that she’d have no hope of escaping it until she was at least fourteen.

The dam she’d built around her emotions at the train station hadn’t been able to withstand the thought of of six years of  hell in the horrid place and she’d broken down for the second time that day. She'd spent the rest of the night crying into her thin musty pillow.

She’d been staring off into her darkened room, her eyes swollen form the crying and her head pounding from the lack of sleep, when she’d heard the door unlock. A stern voice had shouted through the warped wood, telling her to get her lazy arse out of bed.

Despite the fact that she’d felt like death warmed over, she’d gotten off her bed and quickly donned one of the two uniforms she’d been grudgingly provided by Aster the night before.

The blouse had been much to big and she’d had to roll the cuffs several times so it didn’t keep slipping over her hands. The grey woollen smock dress had been similarly oversized, but unlike the shirt she couldn’t roll this up to make it fit better so she’d had to content herself with wearing a knee length dress that ended at her ankles. She’d looked ridiculous, but she had a feeling that was the point.

A few minutes later, she’d opened her stiff door and hurried off to find the kitchens, all the while cursing the boots the bitch had given her.

They were sturdy and well worn in, but they were also at least three sizes to big and they’d sloshed alarmingly on her feet as she’d tried to walk down the polished staircases.

She’d honestly thought that she was going to break her neck.

Maybe that was what Aster had wanted her to do, she wouldn’t have put it passed the cow in the slightest.

Somehow managing to avoid an untimely death by over large footwear, she’s eventually made it down to the basement kitchens. (What was it with these places always having the kitchens in the basement?) where she’d quickly been put to work.

And thus had started her incarceration in her own living breathing nightmare. Somedays she was sure it was one she was never going to be able to wakeup from, no matter how hard she wished to.

She was pulled from her heavy musings by the sound of the entrance buzzer being rung.

To her complete surprise someone answered it.

Curious Harmony went to her door and gave the knob a tentative twist. The knob gave under her hand with little effort, she clearly wasn’t locked in anymore. This gave Harmony pause, how had she missed Aster coming back? She needed to hide her radio before the old crone came looking for her. She’d destroy it if she found it, and Harmony held little hope of being able to er... _procure_ another one.

She’d barely managed to hide the radio when her door knob began to twist and the stiff door was pushed open in halting increments.

Gulping Harmony got up off the floor and gave the loose board a discreet tap with her booted foot to make sure it was in place. If the sour woman was to ever find the little space where Harmony kept the few illicit things she could truly call her own, she dreaded to think what the consequences would be.

She was sure the inability to sit down would be the least of her worries.

With one last jolting shove, the door was finally pushed open and Harmony was confronted with the nasty visage of Madam Abigail Aster.

The woman in question was still as round, red lipped and pointy and she had been all those years ago when she’d picked Harmony up from Guildford station.

The only noticeable differences to the womans appearance was the ever increasing abundance of wrinkles and the fact that she’d changed her hair from her bottle blond to a horrible shade of fake ginger that looked even worse in the artificial light that lit Harmony's cell. 

Asters eyes narrowed at the sight of her stood ramrod straight at the side of her bed.

The woman in question cast a pin sharp glare around the room looking for anything suspicious. But all she could see were the same things that Harmony could.

The usual mouldering, peeling walls, the unwashed bedding and the bare floorboards that creaked with every step.

Aster bared her teeth at Harmony in displeasure.

She was clearly disgruntled at being unable to catch Harmony up to something.

Harmony did her best to will away the smirk that wanted to trace it’s way onto her face, but she wasn’t sure if she was completely successful.

The woman pursed her bright red lips and glared at her over the top of the glasses she kept perpetually perched on the tip of her over pointy nose.

Sometimes Harmony wondered if Aster had the ability to read people minds, but she never gave it mush consideration beyond the abstract. It was likely that Harmony’s face was just to expressive.

“You have a visitor Miss Potter”.

Without further explanation Aster stepped back from the doorway and began to stride off down the hall, her block heels clicking ominously on the hard floors.

Harmony hurried to catch up.

She had no idea what Aster could possibly mean about _her_ having a visitor, it had to be a mistake.

No one ever came to see her specifically, not unless it was one of those sycophant social workers and they never came on a Saturday. But Harmony new better than to ask.

You didn’t ask Aster questions. You just did what she wanted you to as quickly as possible, three broken ribs had taught Harmony that.

She caught up with the old bat just as she was heading down the corridor that led to her private sitting room.

It was an area of the institution that Harmony had rarely been in to.

The few times she’d been down here in the past it was usually because Aster wanted the long term _“Boarders”_ (Some of them were orphans like her, but the majority were children that had been taken away from their parents for one reason of another), to put on a good display of obedience for one visiting git or another.

The git's in questions were usually rich bastards who invested in the institution to make them feel better about themselves. They were supposedly giving money to make the boarders lives more comfortable. In reality they were paying for the kind of luxury tat that Aster liked to display in her private rooms. But the investors, for lack of a better word, couldn’t care where their money was going. Just as long as it looked like they were doing their philanthropic best, by the poor wayward urchins, in the local press, they were happy.

The children that were rolled out for these occasions, were scrubbed to within an inch of their lives and then placed into brand new uniforms. Uniforms that were taken back as soon as the photos were finished and the snotty git's felt good about themselves again.

But Aster had made no comment about changing out of her tatty oversized clothes.

So who could be important enough that they were in Asters private sitting room waiting to see her and yet not important enough to require Harmony to look like a well looked after child.

To Harmony’s surprise Aster held the door open for her.

Feeling more than a little wary, Harmony gingerly moved passed her and made her way into the garish sitting room. The situation was getting odder by the minute and Harmony didn’t appreciate feeling so wrong footed.

The door closed with an audible snick as Aster made her own way into the sitting room, the look she sent Harmony’s way was so full of loathing that she knew she was going to be in deep shit once this mysterious visitor left.

Once inside it didn’t take many seconds for her eyes to land on the distinctly plain (and therefore out of place figure) who was stood in front of an empty fireplace with her back to the room.

She had a tight bun at the base of her neck and her hair was an interesting mix of auburn and grey.

Whoever she was she hadn’t got a single hair out of place. The visitors clothing was simple, Harmony would’ve been tempted to say sensible, but she didn’t see how a long sleeved wool dress and a tartan shawl could be classed as sensible when the weather was so sticky that Harmony’s own shirt was welded to her back with sweat.

Aster harshly cleared her throat to gain the visitors attention.

The woman finally turned away from the fire place. Harmony wasn’t anymore sure what to think of her presence now that she could see her face to face, than she had been when she’d only been able to see her back.

The face held obvious signs of age, but she didn’t look ancient. Her mouth was set in a severe line and yet her eyes seemed to say that she wasn’t as mean as Aster was.

The woman appeared to be inspecting her over the top of her half moon glasses, Harmony had to will herself not to start tugging at her tatty clothes. After several seemingly endless seconds, the woman nodded to herself and took a seat on one of Asters brightly flocked chairs.

Harmony didn’t know what the woman had seen, but she didn’t seem displeased with Harmony and this woman certainly seemed to be someone one who wouldn’t pull any punches if she wasn't pleased with something.

She knew it shouldn’t matter. But Harmony felt a small amount of pleasure at not being instantly judged by the tattiness of her clothing by this random stranger, who was now pouring herself a cup of tea from the silver tea service that was set out on the coffee table.

There were only enough cups for two people so Harmony had a feeling that whatever this stranger wanted her for it wasn’t going to be a long conversation.

The woman finished pouring the second cup of tea. “Do you take sugar?”.

Harmony was so dumbfounded by the simple question she had half a mind to look behind her to see if someone else had arrived, but the woman’s gaze was fixed solely on her.

Still feeling unsure if it was really her who was being asked, Harmony nodded her head. This gained her a reprimanding eyebrow and expectant look. The woman obviously was talking to her after all.

“Yes, please Ma’am”. The words barely passed her tight throat and for a second she wondered if the woman even heard her squeaked reply, but the she merely smiled at her and placed a sugar cube in the small porcelain cup.

“Milk?”.

“Yes please Ma’am”. The words were still just as hard to get out but they were a little louder this time at least. The woman poured in a good amount of milk and Harmony watched as the colours swirled together.

“Is this really necessary!”

It was a good job Harmony hadn’t taken hold of the cup and saucer yet, otherwise there would’ve been a horrid mess all over the shag-pile carpet.

The woman on the seat stopped trying to hand over the tea and turned to Aster with a flash lenses and a set of quickly thinning lips.

“Yes. I believe it’s quite necessary, there’s nothing better for the soul than a good strong cup of English tea”.

The woman had a lilting Scottish brogue when she spoke and Harmony decided that she much preferred it to Asters fake upper class accent.

Honestly _that_ woman’s voice set her teeth on edge.

The woman glared at Aster over the top of her glasses. “You may leave us now. You’ve brought me Miss Potter and I thank you for your time. But the matters I need to discuss with the young lady are quite private and your involvement is not required at this time”.

It was as clear a dismissal as Harmony had ever heard; Aster went an interesting shade of purple at being essentially thrown out of her own home.

With a glare at the pair Aster turned on her heel and left the room in a snit.

The door banged so hard as Aster left that it rattled the cups on the tea tray.

The Scott shook her head and muttered something that sounded bizarrely like jealous squids, before handing Harmony her tea.

“Do sit down Miss Potter, this conversation will be easier if you’re not stood there like a scared animal”.

Harmony felt a slight twinge of annoyance at the woman’s comparison. She wasn’t scared, she was just wary of unknowns.

After the knocks she’d received in her short life she personally didn’t think it was a bad trait to have cultivated.

Harmony didn’t say anything to this effect however, she just sat down on one of Aster gaudy seats.

As she sat she could feel the woman appraising her again, so she took a gulp of her scolding tea to stop herself from fidgeting under the scrutiny.

For several minutes nothing was said and Harmony could do little more than concentrate on the intricate patterns of her tea cup. The precise clink of porcelain made her look up from her cup and she could see that the woman had finished her tea and was placing the cup and saucer back on the tray with the tea pot.

“So Miss Potter, I suppose you’re quite curious by now as to what a seemingly random stranger wishes to discuss with you”.

“Yes, Ma’am”.

With a decisive nod the woman pulled out a thick cream envelope.

“I think you will find this letter most enlightening Miss Potter”.

Harmony could feel her palms sweating, so she carefully placed her tea on the floor near her foot and wiped them on her raggy dress before taking hold of the thick the letter the woman was holding out to her.

She turned the letter over in her hands, the paper wasn’t like anything she’d ever felt before and her name was written on the front in neat black calligraphy. What surprised her more was that the letter had the number of her dinky little cell written on it.

_To Miss H Potter_

_Room 17_

_Madam Asters School Of Correction and Boarding Home For Wayward Youths_

_Guildford._

Intrigued she flipped the letter over.

She could feel there was some sort of shield embossed in the wax but her eyesight was so poor in her severely out dated glasses that she had no hope of making out such minute intricacies and broke through the red wax with out even attempting to decipher what it was _._

The letter was several pages thick and there was more of that precise calligraphy covering the pages.

Holding the letter away from her face she squinted at the tiny writing waiting for in to come into focus.

_To Miss Harmony Callisto Melania Ebony Potter._

Upon reading her full name Harmony felt a little unnerved. How did this woman know her full name? No one had known her full name since her mother had died.

The authorities only seemed to know her first and her last names when she’d been dumped at the Vale and she’d done nothing to alter their assumptions. To begin with it was because she’d refused to speak, but later it was simply because she hadn’t wanted to be lumbered with that mouthful of a name in an environment where bullies were very much prevalent. And she didn’t just mean other children either. Even the vale, nice as it’d been, wasn’t immune to having the odd crotchety member of staff.

Shaking off her unease she began to read the rest of the tiny writing.

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Enclosed you will find the necessary lists for books and equipment._

_We await your owl no later than 31_ _ st _ _July 197_ _2_

_Yours sincerely_

_Minerva McGonagall._

_Deputy Headmistress._

 

Harmony gaped at the letter. Witchcraft and wizardry? What the hell was this!

She was pretty sure she must look like a right idiot, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care. After all, how often was someone told that they were accepted to a school that taught witchcraft.

She wanted to ask the woman if this was some sort of joke, but she seemed to have lost the ability to move her jaw.

How the hell could she be a witch. Yes strange things happened around her sometimes and the others children here often called her a freak but this was absurd.

“I’m sorry but I think you’ve made a mistake. Magic isn't real and even if it is somebody like me wouldn't have it”. The voice startled her, until she realised it was her that was speaking.

“I can assure you Miss Potter there’s been not mistake. Hogwarts registers do not lie about who does or does not have magic and you most certainly do”.

Harmony shook her head sending her scraggy, unwashed black hair into her face.

“Look, I get that this must be some sort of really good joke for someone. But I’m not a witch, I’m just Harmony. A girl hoping like hell that she can survive in this dump until she’s old enough to leave it”.

“Well Miss Potter let me ask you this. Have you ever done anything that you couldn’t explain when you were angry or scared or in pain?”

The women’s eyes seemed to bore into her. Harmony looked away, but it was to late. The memories came unbidden and they weren't going to be stopped now they'd been let loose.

So the weird occurrences were a little more frequent that she was willing to admit to, but just because her hair had grown back when Aster had shaved her bold, three times, or that time she’d somehow ended up on the roof when she’d been trying to get away from Billy and his thugs or that time when she’d had to grab a hot tray out of the oven and she’d badly burned her hands but they’d looked perfectly fine a few minutes later.

None of that meant she was a witch, did it?

But then other memories came to her, her mother stirring a pot without touching it. The flowers in the garden growing despite the thick snow. A spoonful of something horrid that made her ears steam. A picture that moved like a film.

Had her mother been a witch too? Or was she just a freak like her daughter?

Harmony glanced down at the letter and ran her fingers over the words. If this was real it would mean she could leave this horrid place. But could she trust this woman on blind faith alone.

A loud bang of thunder made her jump, causing her leg to knock of the fragile teacup near her feet. It never stood a chance against her heavy boots.

The letter was forgotten for the moment as she bent down to try and clear up the mess.

Aster was going to kill her when she saw that Harmony had broken one of her porcelain cups.

“Allow me Miss Potter”. The voice was oddly close and Harmony looked up to see that the woman was stood over her with a strange looking stick.

Harmony’s memories flashed back to the day her mother died, the man with the sinister smile.

But they were quickly washed away as she saw the shattered teacup knit back together before her eyes and the tea that had soaked into the shag-pile, pour it’s self back into the repaired porcelain.

Cautiously Harmony picked the cup up and ran her fingers over the surface. There wasn't a single crack. If this woman was lying she was very good at illusions.

The woman moved away from her, and Harmony got off the floor, very gently placing the repaired cup onto the tea tray.

Harmony sat back down and contemplated what she'd just seen. After a minute or two one particularly burning question scorched its way across her tongue.

Grabbing hold of courage that she'd long since buried in favour of going unseen, Harmony looked the woman directly in the eyes.

"Ok, so say that I do believe you. Magic is real and I'm apparently a witch. Why are you only just coming for me now? I've been trapped in this godforsaken institution for years! Surely someone could've come for me sooner".

Harmony was ashamed to say that she felt a single tear leave her eye, but she swiped at it angrily.

"The simple answer to your question Miss Potter. Is that today you turned eleven and our society demands that once this age is reached all humans with magic must be trained to use it".

Harmony blinked. She'd quite forgotten that today was her birthday. 

"So what you're saying is that children don't matter to your society until you deem them old enough to be trained".

The woman's eyes flashed.

"No Miss Potter. What I am saying is that as a Muggle born our society would've had no known record of you until the registration book saw fit to send you your acceptance letter."

"Muggle born?"

"A child born to parents who don't possess magic".

Harmony bit her lip. Should she tell her what she'd remembered about her mother?

"So ... Hypothetically if someone was to have a witch for a mother, would they still be a Muggle born?"

"No Miss Potter, they'd be a half blood. But it was my understanding that you had no knowledge of magic when I first handed you your letter. Are you now trying to tell me otherwise?"

The woman's glare was fierce and Harmony gulped.

"Not necessarily. She may have just been a freak like me, but I can remember a few odd things from when I was a young child. Flowers growing in several feet of snow, photograph's that moved on their own and a few other things. Would that make her a witch?"

"First things first Miss Potter. I would caution you against calling anyone, including yourself, with magic a freak. Secondly she does certainly sound like she was a witch. May I enquire as to your mother's name?".

"I don't really know it".

"I'm sorry?"

"I don't really know. Her first name was Ophelia and I know her last name wasn't the same as mine, I can remember her telling me I was named for my father. We rarely ever left the house, but no one ever called her by her last name because she just introduced herself as Ophie."

The woman looked at her wonderingly. 

"Well Miss Potter, you're turning out to quite a bit more of an enigma than I planned on unearthing today. But no matter. You're mother's name does ring a bell but I've had so many students pass through my hands I've quite forgotten those not in my house. It's possible your mother was a continental witch. It's certainly not likely your father was a wizard. There's only one magical Potter family I'm aware of. And the last surviving member of that is happily married with a son not much older than you".

"Oh"

The woman gave her a kind smile.

"Do try not to look so glum Miss Potter. You're still a witch and one in need of a great deal of training. Can I take it you would like to attend Hogwarts now you no longer think it a joke".

Harmony looked at the letter. This was her chance at freedom, but how was she going to afford this.

The woman could apparently read minds because the next thing she said answered Harmony's question before she'd even voiced it.

"Of course, I should perhaps mention that your school fees and the rest will be covered by the orphan fund. It will mean you will likely have to buy a few things second hand but I'm sure you'll manage".

She didn't like being reminded of her orphan status, but perhaps just this once it would come in useful. The fact they would pay her fees instantly lifted her spirits and for the first time in a long time she could feel hope of a better life igniting in her soul.

There was just one more question that needed answering.

"How do I get hold of an owl to write my reply on"

As soon as the words left her mouth she cringed; she could see the woman trying to hold back a smile.

"I can assure you Miss Potter. That the wizarding world is not yet bad enough off that we are being forced to write our missives on our familiars. In any case the need for a written reply is a moot point, since I am the one who needs to receive it, so what is your answer."

Well there was only ever going to be one reply that Harmony could give to that question.

Wasn't there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song belongs to t-rex and anything you recognise as canon comes from J K Rowling and not me


	3. Story C ) Canon Divergence Au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story C  
> It started with a storm. 
> 
> This story is likely to be the most canon mine will ever get, so more or less everything happened as the books did, with the exception that Harry's always been a girl and Severus didn't die in the shack.
> 
> This story takes place when Harriet is in her mid twenties, so a good few years after the battle.
> 
> Harriet's luck with Hogwarts is still as rotten as ever and after a freak incident with her portkey she turns up a day late to her new job. There's one person in particular who's pissed about this turn of events, and it's not Harriet. Will Harriet be able to crack the animosity between herself and a certain Potions master, or will he push her away as he did once before?

STORY C

(It started with a storm)

 

Prologue

 

On a storm swept glen, somewhere in the wild echelons of Scotland a young woman had just materialised out of thin air.

Thankfully the only living creatures to witness this event were a few hardy sheep on the hill side opposite.

She appeared dazed; more than a little rumpled and had a deep pink mark on her right arm, a sure sign that a spectacular bruise would appear there later on.

If the fact that a random woman had just appeared out of thin air in the middle of Scotland wasn’t odd enough in its own right. The fact that she was surrounded by several old fashioned trunks and a large grey owl in a travelling cage would surely be proof enough for anyone that something highly peculiar was taking place.

The owl seemed to realise the rather wet situation they'd landed themselves in before the woman did, because it let out an almighty screech to get her attention.

Apparently the owl knew how to rouse it's owner well, because the noise broke the woman out of her daze and finally made her take stock of her not quite right situation.

Blinking at the sky she realised two things.

One, the  portkey hadn’t dropped her at Hogwarts as it was supposed to and two, wherever the portkey had seen fit to dump her it was absolutely pissing it down and she was getting soaked.

“It’s always sodding portkeys isn’t it! I hate the damn thing’s.”

There was a loud clang, as the woman kicked out at the closest thing to her. The owl cage.

Her actions didn't please the cages occupant in the slightest and it began screeching in displeasure.

Hearing the indignant cries from her friend, the woman realised what she'd done and knelt down next to the cage in an attempt to calm the irate creature.

“I’m sorry Cyclops. It’s the bloody portkeys fault! It's supposed to have dropped us at Hogwarts, not wherever the hell this is.”

A loud crack and a streak of bright light made her jump and look back at the sky.

This wasn’t just a simple downpour as she'd assumed, it was a full blown summer storm.

With a dawning feeling of why me, she came to the not particularly welcome, but likely accurate, conclusion for why she wasn't outside Hogwarts gates like she should've been.

“Shit. I bet the bloody electrical charges from the storm are what's made the stupid thing drop me in the wrong place.”

Feeling drained, she sat down heavily on one of her trunks. Placing her elbows on her knees she leant forwards and knotted her hands in her wet black hair; gripping at the sodden strands.

“Merlin, what am I supposed to do now? I can’t apparate in this weather. Not if it’s charged enough to knock a portkey out of sync. I’ll turn up at Hogwarts completely fried, it’s just to dangerous.”

Letting out a low groan of frustration she lifted her head and looked around herself for anything that could help. But there wasn't a single sign of people, Muggle or otherwise, that might be able to help her.

_Looks like you’re going to have to get yourself of out this mess on your own Harry old girl._

Running her hand over her wet face in frustration, and not for the first time thanking herself for the forethought to change to contacts before she started travelling all those years ago, she braced her hands against her knees and pushed herself up off the trunk with a tired sigh.

Opening the lid she rummaged around for a few seconds before letting out a triumphant sound and placing a small canvas bag on the wet ground.

From down the side of her knee high boots she retrieved strange looking stick and pointed it at the bag.

With a tiny twitch of her hand, a small shoddy looking tent erected itself in the middle of the glen. The tent looked barely big enough to hold the woman, let alone the owl cage and the various trunks that lay around her. 

Yet she didn't seem overly bothered by its apparent lack of size, infact she looked rather pleased with the ratty looking thing. She grabbed the owl cage and made for the fabric structure, intent on getting herself and her increasingly bedraggled familiar dry.

"Well Cyclops, it looks like we'll be spending the night in the old standby one last time."

With another minute flick of her stick the woman's various luggage dutifully bobbed over to her and followed her into the tent through its tiny opening.

With everything (somehow) in the tent the woman looked out of the entrance. The glen looked just as wet as it had when she’d been outside, but now that she was out of the weather she had a bit more appreciation for it’s damp beauty.

She pushed her sopping fringe out of her eyes and began to giggle at the absurdity of it all.

This wasn’t the first odd situation that she’d found herself in over the years and she doubted it’s be the last either. 

“Well Harriet Jacqueline Lily Potter, it seems that Hogwarts rotten luck is still trying to give you a run for it’s money.”

With one last tired giggle and a wry shake of her head she closed the tent flaps, glad to finally be out of the eliments.

 

 

Chapter 1

 

September 1st was the worst day of the year as far as Severus Snape was concerned.

Not only did it mark the beginning of the hell known as the new school year and thus a return to his teaching duties.

It also meant that his few months of bliss, where the castle was devoid of all idiots and he could brew to his hearts content without having to go through day after day of mind numbing lessons first, was coming to an unfortunate end.

If all that wasn't bad enough he now had to listen to the far to cheerful post holiday chit chat, of his far to happy post holiday colleagues, as they waited for the obnoxious little cretins they called their students to show their stupid little faces for the first feast of the year.  

His colleagues were so caught up in their mindless gossip about their loathsome summers, that they'd hadn't noticed the some of the seats at the head table were vacant of their sitters. Their Esteemed headmistress was missing in action and the new defence professor had yet to arrive at the school at all.

A long low boom echoed overhead drawing Severus's attention to the windows.

It appeared that the thunderstorm that had been subtly threatening the castle since early that afternoon was finally getting started.  

There'd been lightning and roiling grey clouds playing across the great ceiling since before he’d arrived in the hall, but the weather hadn’t seen fit to do much more than put on a bit of a show; now it seemed that the storm was finally ready to release all it's pent up energy and rain, in what promised to be quite the spectacular display.

The best part was, it was about to do it just as the little snots were due to get off the train.

The potions master couldn’t have been more delighted by this out come if he’d planned it himself. 

The slightly evil curl at the corner of his thin mouth gave a slight insight into the mans malicious thoughts about his students, but other than that the potions master looked just as dour as ever.

No one would be able to guess from his face alone that he was entertaining some rather vivid fantasies of drowned students.

Looking away from the ceiling Severus cast another discreet glance at the empty seats; contemplating just where their occupants were. He doubted that Minerva would miss the students arrival no matter where it was she'd gotten to, but where the hell was the defence professor?

The rest of the staff had been trickling into the castle over the past week; gradually destroying his quiet human free eden. But the defence professor hadn’t been amongst them.

This was the first time that all the staff had been together in one place since the end of last term, but surely he wasn’t the only one to notice that the erstwhile professor Michel’s seat had yet to gain its new occupant.

But he supposed the people he worked with weren't always the most observant.

They’d likely forgotten that Michel’s had been dismissed at the end of last term and were just waiting for the pompous man to turn up and start regaling them all with his various summer exploits.

Now let's make one thing quite clear, Severus wasn't worried about the distinct lack of new professor because the students education may suffer.

No, as far as he was concerned the little sods could learn something from their books.That is, if they finally realised the squishy thing inside there heads was supposed to be used for reading; not just channelling endless hormonal fantasies.

What Severus was really worried about was what type of vapid, simple minded Lockhart impersonator he'd be sat next to for the remainder of the year.

He’d made an innocent enquiry, a few day prior, in regards to which of their ‘ _esteemed_ _colleagues’_  Minerva had finally settled on for the defence position and she'd refused to answer. She’d given him a look over the top of her glasses and informed him in no uncertain terms that he would _‘find out with everybody else’._

He’d not been happy with that response in the slightest, and had continued to badger the old tabby in what he’d thought had been a subtle bid for information. But Minerva had seen right through him and she’d gotten quite catty with him.

He’d skulked back to his dungeons for a good long brood after his bid for information had failed.

During his brooding he’d come to the conclusion it must be someone he loathed, why else would Minerva be unwilling to give him something as simple as a name.

This unwelcome, but likely thought had been stewing for a while by this stage; making him more tense the longer he went without an answer.

It's why he was so pissed at the defence professors nerve at being late. Severus wanted to Know who they were so he could either set his mind at ease or start plotting their murder.

Merlin he hoped like hell it wasn’t that twat Von Braun.

Severus had met him at a defence conference the year prior, when he’d been invited as a guest speaker. Von Braun had known what Severus did and had displayed a disconcerting eagerness to teach in Hogwarts hallowed halls; if this wasn’t bad enough on it’s own, the man was dull as ditch water.

He'd been worse than Binns for Salazars sake.

This perhaps wouldn’t of been a problem in and of it’s self if it wasn’t for the fact that, that one simple dull conversation they’d shared between lectures, had been enough to make the man think that Severus was now some sort of friend.

He’d followed him from lecture to lecture like a lost puppy for the remainder of the conference.

Once he'd managed to return to the castle, he'd informed Minerva about his unfettered loathing of the man over a tumbler of particularly fine whisky. Hiring Von Braun for the position would be just the type of thing that she’d get an unquestionable amount of delight from.

Yes, Severus could see could see it now. His ceaseless torment at having to spend meals and staff meetings, sat next to someone who continually made him feel like he wanted to throw himself into the black lake on a good day, would be just the type of thing to keep Minerva amused for the rest of the school year.

Merlin help them all if Minerva had employed that man.

He wasn’t sure who’d he be throwing off the astronomy tower first if she had. Minerva for employing him, Von Braun for sheer annoying dullness or himself just so that he could get away from the man in question and the gleeful tabby.

Either way there would be a mess and he certainly wouldn't be the one cleaning it up.

Although he supposed even Von Braun would be better than Michel's. Not even Von Braun, dull as he was, could beat Michel's on sheer annoyingness alone. After all Michel's head had been so far up his own arse that Severus was surprised that the man couldn't see out of his mouth.

Severus had only seen the likes of Michel's arrogance once before in his life and that had been when Potter had still been strutting around Hogwarts hallowed halls with his little group of marauders.

They were both very similar. They both strutted around like they owned the place, they both thought that they were better than everyone in every way and they were immensely popular.

However Michel's and Potter differed in one very significant way. Potter's arrogance hadn't made him think he had the Merlin given right to fuck whoever he wanted simply because he'd had power over them. Severus was well aware he was never going to be Potters number one fan, but the fact remained he couldn't have seen the man, whatever his age, fucking underage students.

Lily had loved Potter after all and Severus couldn't believe that the woman who'd once been his friend would willingly marry a man who had the makings to become a middle aged sexual predator.  

Severus had to hand it to the disgusting bastard though. Arrogant he may have been, but when it finally came time for him to fall from grace he did it in spectacular style.

Severus hadn't been present when the fall from grace occurred, everything he knew of the incident he knew second hand. But he hadn't been a spy for as long as he had without picking up a few tricks, and after questioning the right people he'd gotten a much fuller picture of Michel's dismissal than most of the school had.

Apparently Minerva and Filius had been showing the school board around the various dungeon classrooms, hoping to gain more funding, when they'd come face to arse with Michel's, while his cock was being serviced by a fifteen year old Hufflepuff, in what should've been a deserted classroom.  

From what Filius had told him, Minerva had had  _‘a bit of a shock’_ at the sight. Quite a gross understatement in Severus’s opinion. If he’d been confronted with that man’s arse he’d have wanted a bottle of firewhisky and a lobotomy. 

Of course Minerva hadn’t remained shocked for long, and had fired Michel's before he'd even managed to pull his trousers up.

Apparently Michel's had tried to reason with Minerva, likely in some vain attempt to keep his job, but all he'd done was dig himself a bigger hole.

He'd explained to Minerva that the boy in question was the only one he'd taken such liberties with (Severus didn't believe that for a single second) and that they'd been _'together_ ', for more than a year without anyone noticing so  _'why not just let everything continue as it was'._

Severus has no idea how this conceited explanation was supposed to help the man keep his job.

After all, all it proved was that the man had a moral compass controlled by his dick and no qualms about the age of consent.

Minerva certainly hadn't taken kindly to the revelation and in her enraged state had transfigured the man into a toad and locked him into one of his own specimen cages until the Auror's could arrive to take him into custody. 

When the Hufflepuff had tried to flee, Minerva had grabbed the boy with a charm of her own design and stuck him to one of the classroom chairs (Severus had been on the end of that particular spell more than once as a student). Where he’d been told in no uncertain terms that his parents were going to be contacted and they would be informed about what he’d been doing with his professor.

From what Severus had learned it was a good thing that the Auror's were prompt in collecting Michel's. Because when the boys parents had finally been able to be reached, they'd been baying for the man's blood and requesting a rusty knife to perform the ex-professor's castration.  

In the end the man had gotten lucky, he'd only been sentenced to eighteen months for his perverted indiscretions.

Though he had been banned from any institution that cared for children for the rest of his life.

Severus just can't believe some people's unending luck, if it'd been him on trial he'd likely have gotten  life for something as simple as kissing one of the little buggers on the cheek.

Severus was many things and he certainly wasn't a man of morals by many peoples standards, but even he of the death eater past knew that you don't touch the underage students.

In Fact even if they are of age you still don't, the simple fact is you shouldn't touch anyone that you hold any type of power over. Bully them by all means, but to touch someone in such a intimate manner with that amount of power imbalance was never going to be something that appealed to him.

He wanted his lovers willing (though he wasn't to bothered if the exchange of Galleons had incited that willingness) or not at all.

The ever increasing noise of clattering shoes and boisterous chatter drew Severus out of his musings and made him look towards the doors.

Right on cue hundreds of little dunderheads began to make their unruly way into the great hall.

Severus was pleased to note that the majority of them looked like drowned rats.

Severus heard the scrape of a chair and glanced over to see who was leaving the table.

"If you'll excuse me Pomona. I need to get going. I'll be expected to greet the new students soon."

Filius hopped off his chair and his head instantly disappeared beneath the edge of the large table, though it didn't stop him from finishing his conversation with a sweeping gesture at the ceiling.

"Thought they'll doubtless be a while yet in this atrocious weather."

Severus watched the tiny man make his way out of the side door the teachers used.

"How was your summer Severus?"

Severus grimaced, apparently without Filius for conversation and everyone else at the table otherwise engaged Severus became the next best thing for the woman to talk to.

"About as good as one's summer ever gets. When all one can think about is the fact that the peace of the castle will never last long enough."

Severus made his voice as monotone and as disinterested as possible hoping to waylay any further conversation. He had no desire to engage with his colleagues on a good day and his stress over the unknown defence professor and the thunderstorm overhead was really starting to give him a horrible migraine.

Sprout ever the oblivious, over cheerful Hufflepuff, didn't seem to get the hint that Severus wasn't interested in conversation and just grinned at him annoyingly.  

“Come now Severus”. He sent the cheerful woman a glare that went completely unnoticed. He wondered briefly if he should tell her that she had soil smudged over the side of her face, but decided against it.

It might make her think he _wanted_ to be engaged in conversation.

“There must be something you got enjoyment from this summer?”.

“Not really, no. I spent most of it brewing potions for Poppy. Hardly stimulating subject matter”.

He'd be damned if he was going to tell her that he'd spent most of his summer trying to come up with a more effective, less addictive variant of dreamless sleep.

Not only would she be unlikely to understand half of the conversation; she'd likely get all smiley and think he wanted to help people out of the goodness of his blackened heart.  

He wasn't doing it to help people, he was doing it because the current version was expensive and you could only take so much of it before you had worse problems than the nightmares to deal with.

It was purely self-serving really. If he could improve the mixture, he could make himself a very lucrative money maker in these post war years and it might also allow him to get more than two hours sleep a night.

It was a win win situation.

"To each there own I suppose, as long as you enjoyed yourself." Sprout stated this with a benign smile, while not so inconspicuously looking to see if there was someone else to chat to.

It was interesting to see the moment she finally realised that Minerva wasn't sat at the table, it was like a cog sliding into place and the rusty gears starting to turn.

Severus would've rolled his eyes at how oblivious his colleagues were, but he couldn't be bothered wasting the energy.

“Gracious where’s Minerva! The sorting ceremony will be stating soon. It’s already running late as it is”.

As if Sprout had summoned them, the doors opened and the fretful, drenched first years trooped in behind Filius as he dutifully led them to the waiting stool and hat.

The hat began it's annoying song, just as the quite sound of a door being closed drew Severus's attention to the side of the room.

Minerva had finally arrived.

The headmistress attempted to be inconspicuous as she took her seat, but Severus noted that he wasn't the only one to notice her late arrival. Some of the students were watching her curiously as well.

Though this wasn't much of a surprise, he supposed. Severus doubted that they'd ever seen McGonagall looking anything but put together. Which at the moment she most certainly wasn't; her hair was coming free from it's bun and her clothes were thoroughly drenched.

He had no idea what she'd been doing, but from the state of her you'd have thought that she'd been the one pulling the boats across the lake.  

Sprout started twittering at her in a whisper as soon as she took her seat.

"For Helga's sake Minerva! You're all wet and you nearly missed the sorting. What've you been up to?"

Minerva looked like she didn't quite know what Sprout was talking about until she looked down at herself and realised that she was soaked to the skin. Why it took someone else pointing this out to her, Severus had no idea, one would think you'd notice when you appeared to have taken a shower in you clothes. With a quite curse the Headmistress cast a quick spell to dispel the water from her garments. It left her dry, but ever so slightly steaming.

"I've been down by the gates waiting for the Defence professor. Unfortunately they didn't arrive when they were scheduled to do so and I've gotten wet while waiting in the downpour. I've no idea why they haven't turned up, but they should've been here just before the students arrived."

Severus had to strain to hear what Minerva told sprout, but it was enough to set his teeth on edge.

‘ _So’,_ thought Severus. _‘The new fathead is just as arrogant as the last._ _How conceited is this new professor that they think it's acceptable to not even send a note when they're not going to show at an agreed time'_

A glance at the headmistress was enough to prove what Severus had gleaned from the woman's tone, she was worried.

Internally Severus scoffed in derision, if it'd been him that had kept her waiting in the rain he would've been given the cold shoulder and more than a few choice words, not worry for his well being; yet this unknown person who couldn't have yet done anything to gain her loyalty was receiving barely restrained concern for their absence.

As the names started to be called, “ **Ashcroft, Byron** ” Severus leaned towards Minerva and spoke to her in a low drawl.

“So the new fathead had has turned tail and run before they’ve even started. Just what type of coward did you employ Minerva?”

She looked at him over the top of her spectacles with slightly narrowed eyes.

“ **Bolton, Sarah** ”

“Honestly Severus, they’ve not turned tail and run. I'm sure there’s a good explanation as to why they haven’t turned up as scheduled. It has me quite worried in fact, this isn't like them at all.” A worried sheen slid over the Headmistresses eyes, but Severus wasn't going to let this go.  

“So you know them well then? This person who was thoughtless enough to leave you standing in the rain?”

“Yes, I know them reasonably well. I certainly know them well enough to recognise that them not turning up when they say they will is most odd; as for the rain, the storm isn't severe and it's not like a little rain ever hurt anyone."

Clearly not in the mood for it's power to be belittled by a elderly witch, the storm let out a deep long boom that rattled the windows in their frames and made several of the little snots let out muffled shrieks. 

Severus raised an eyebrow at the headmistresses obvious down playing of the situation.

"And I supposed the fact that they haven't been willing to turn up for their first day, still won't permit us to be serviced with a name for the slacker."

“No Severus. I've already told you that you'll find out who they are at the same time as everyone else, the fact that they've likely been unavoidably detained doesn't mean that's going to change. Now can you please leave it be for the time being, I would prefer not to miss the entire sorting because of your insatiable curiosity."

With a huff of dismissal, Minerva turned away from him to finish watching the last of the sorting.

Severus grit his teeth at the abrupt dismissal and turned to watch the sorting himself. He thought it typical that someone had pissed her off and he was once more being used as the whipping boy for her temper. If this was what the rest of the year was going to be like he had half a mind to lock himself away in the dungeons.

The blond haired boy currently on the stool was sorted into his house and Severus clapped politely for appearances sake but his heart wasn't really in it.

After the last student; “ **Zoltrov, Sebastian** ”, was sorted in to hufflepuff, Minerva stood to make the announcements.

“Good evening students, and welcome to a new school year at Hogwarts. I would like to remind students that there is a list of banned items on caretaker Filch’s office door and any one wishing to see the list may do so at their leisure. Any one caught with the banned items will have them confiscated and be issued with detention. The forbidden forest, is as always, off limits to all students and I must ask that you stay out unless you're with a supervisory adult. Another issue I must address, is one I'm sure most of you are aware of. You may remember that professors Michel's had to leave us suddenly before the end of last term."

Minerva's speech paused as her face contorted into a involuntary grimace at the mention of the ex defence teacher. The students certainly noticed it and they were quick to start whispering amongst themselves, no doubt trying to recount all the things that had been spread around the castle just before term ended.

Minerva's voice raised slightly as she continued, effectively ending the whispers for the moment.  

“While it was ...  _inconvenient,_ that he had to leave so abruptly after five years in the position. I am pleased to say that I have been able to hire a new replacement for both his position as defence professor and for the duties he performed as Gryffindors head of house."

The students began craning their necks to get a better look at the head table, and looked quite baffled when they couldn't see anyone new.

"Unfortunately the new professor has been delayed and as such defence classes may not start as scheduled tomorrow. Hopefully by morning I will Know more about what's transpired and your timetables will be altered accordingly by your heads of house. I would also like to say that since this situation means that the Gryffindors currently have no head of house in the school, if any of you have any issues please feel free to come to me directly with them. However I would appreciate if you only come to me with urgent issues only. Things such as the quidditch schedules will have to wait until your new head of house is in permanent residence."

The last statement gained more than a few disgruntled looks from various members of the Gryffindor table. But either Minerva didn't notice or pretended not to, because she simply smiled at those assembled. "With that out of the way I do believe it's time to enjoy the feast."

Almost instantly bowls and platters appeared on the various tables and the excited murmurings of the students were joined by the cacophony of silverware and plates being moved around.

“Well Minerva”.

Sprout stated happily, as she reached for the roasted artichokes, “You certainly know how to put the cat amongst the pigeons, don’t you old girl”.

Minerva didn't say anything, just reached for a piece of steak and kidney pie. 

“Is it quite true Minerva? The new defence professor hasn’t turned up?”

Filius asked as he helped himself to roast potatoes and chicken now that he was no longer babysitting the new batch of imbeciles.  

Minerva swallowed her piece of pie and answered the diminutive mans question.

"I'm afraid so. I just can't understand why they haven't turned up. They told me weeks ago, when their international portkey would turn up at Hogwarts, but I was waiting at the gate well beyond the time they mentioned and still no one arrived."

The headmistress was staring intently at her meal as she said this, as if the mystery of her missing professor lay in her pie.

Severus continued to listen with half an ear as Filius and Minerva discussed various things, but for the moment he was intent on retrieving a serving of pea and ham soup from the terrine in front of him. He grabbed himself a fresh bread roll and was just about to dip half of the gloriously crusty bread in his soup  when a flash of grey in his peripheral vision made him look away from his meal. 

Heading with great swiftness towards the staff table was one of the biggest owls that Severus had ever seen.

It’s wings alone would have swamped most of the first years, the closer the owl got to the head table Severus could see that the magnificent creature was soaked from the storm and looking far from it's best.

The owl swooped towards the table: landing on the back of the chair next to him with a lot more grace than Severus would've expected from such a large animal,

The creature was dripping like a wet rag as it held it's leg out to Minerva, but it was just a little to far out of reach and she had to stand to retrieve the note from the birds leg.

Severus wasn't the only one to notice Minerva's unusually late messenger, and at least half the students had abandoned their meals in order to watch their headmistress; the other half were to busy gossiping about whatever the note might contain to watch her open it.

As soon as she had the note in her hands and she sat back down, the hall erupted. No doubt they all had theories about what it contained and Severus was likely to hear the most outlandish of them being banded about by the little cretins for weeks to come, but for now he wasn't bothered by the students gossip and continued to watch the headmistress from the corner of his eye as she read through the missive.

Her face seemed to go through a wide range of emotions before settling into a look of exasperated amusement. A low mutter of typical reached Severus ears, but he was distracted from watching the headmistress by the feeling of something rubbing at his shoulder.

“Gah”. 

Severus jolted in his seat as he realised that the grey owl he'd been feeling sorry for had been using him as a towel to dry it's self off. His shoulder was completely soaked. He must've been more distracted by Minerva than he realised to have missed being used in this manner.

His sudden jolt had inadvertently knocked the animal off balance. Something the owl didn't seem to appreciate because with a screech, a harsh nip and a flick of it very long, wet tail the bird flew off without so much as a backwards glance.

He could hear the other staff members trying to stifle their amusement, but he ignored them. With a quick swipe of his napkin he dried his face and a quick charm was enough dry his shoulder.

Minerva was the only one who didn't attempt to hide her amusement at the situation and spoke to him in a low chuckle.

“Really Severus you never manage to make friends easily do you?”.

Severus sent her a flat look.

“Friends? With that great bloody thing. What the bloody hell was it doing here any way and who the hell is sending you ruddy letters in the middle of a bloody storm."

Severus was well aware he was being rude and cantankerous and slightly nosey, but he'd just been made a fool of by an owl of all things and his headache was going from bad to worse.

“Language Severus. We're around student’s after all, even if they're unlikely to hear you”. This was low enough for only Severus to hear, but she answered his question so that the rest of the staff would be able to hear it to.

"The letter was from the defence professor."

The staff were watching Minerva expectantly, but if the were expecting answers they were about to be severely disappointed

"I'll be happy to explain the contents once we're in the staff room and away from prying ears."

With a smile Minerva resumed eating her cooling meal, and ignored the crestfallen looks of her staff; perhaps sensing that pushing the issue before the staff meeting wouldn't get them anywhere the rest of the table resumed eating without asking the headmistress another word.

Looking down at his own dinner Severus felt his mouth tighten. His once crisp bread roll had now turned into mush in his cold soup; the meal looked wholly unappetising and he no longer had any desire to eat the green mush in front of him.  

With a slight huff of annoyance Severus pushed the mush away from himself and grabbed for a serving dish full of dark chocolate mousse, unlike the mush the moose might improve his mood a little.

Though it would likely only be a marginal improvement at best, he was still Severus Snape after all.

 

 

 


	4. Winner !

Well First off can I just say I am staggered by the amount of votes that this has received I was honestly expecting may be ten or so not several hundred.

So really a great big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my stories and vote for their favourites

I'm sure you had better things to be doing than reading this after all

Also some of the comments I've had really have been lovely and really made me smile, which given some of what's happened to me over the past few weeks was really appreciated.

But enough with my wittering this is not an Oscars speech after all, so onto what every one of my lovely readers has been waiting for

The results have now been counted and verified.... By me 😀

💌

And I can tell you that in third place with 17.2% of the vote is...

Story C

 💌

In second place

with 19.5% of the vote is

Story B

💌 

And In First Place

With a whopping 63.3% of your vote is... if you haven't already guessed

🎆🎊  Story A  🎉🎆

 

So folks that is your winner, It was already pretty apparent who the winner was likely to be and I have the first 8 chapters already written. So it will start to be posted soon.

I apologise if your preferred story didn't win but they will be written eventually so don't despair. Keep me on author alert and your favourite story will eventually arrive in your inbox.

Once again thank you to everyone who's voted, and I will see you all at the second chapter of out of sight in a day or two.

Bye for now, Pink x :)

**Author's Note:**

> So this will be quite simple. 
> 
> Whichever story you preferred just leave me and A, B or C in the comments and your vote will be counted.
> 
> Feel free to leave a more detailed comment if you wish to the single letter system is simply to make it fair to people who don't necessarily like to comment.
> 
> If you want another way to vote there's also a poll on my ff.net profile.  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/~pinkwar
> 
> Or you can leave me the letter of your preferred story on my tumbler account.  
> just search for pinkwarsworld (all one word) or try this address https://pinkwarsworld.tumblr.com/
> 
> If you want three bites of the apple feel free to do all three. 
> 
> For those of you who liked all three of these, they will all likely get written eventually, I just need some direction with which to make a priority. So if you did like all three leave all three letters in your comment with your preferred story on the left and your least preferred story on the right. I.e.  
> B, C, A  
> A, C, B  
> C, A, B  
> B, A ,C  
> C, B, A  
> A, B, C. 
> 
> I will tally them up once voting closes on February 14th. the winning story will be announced through authors note on the end of when Snakes fall lions do too and Also through an AN chapter posted to pick your poison. So subscribe to The when snakes fall verse or this story if you want to know the winner. 
> 
> This story will be boosted up the listing periodically during the voting period to ensure everyone who might be interested gets to see it. So if you see it and think that went up the other week! that'll be why. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed these snippets and that you'll come back once voting ends. 
> 
> Hope to See Y'all soon, Pink X


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